


Ascension

by plinys



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Kashyyyk, Life day, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Organa-Solo has spent the last fifteen years living on Kashyyyk, hidden away from Snoke and the First Order, to the point where much of the galaxy has forgotten he's ever existed. That is until, General Hux, on a mission to hunt down rumors of a Force-Sensitive Wookie, ends up "crash landing" on Kashyyyk. With the Life Day celebrations trapping Hux on Kashyyyk and Ben thrust into the role of translator for their prisoner, the collision of their paths and its aftereffects is inevitable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ben

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my newest wip fic project, because I apparently cannot resist. This is loosely inspired by a kink meme prompt that I lost track of now, but gave me the idea to write a fic where instead of going to train with his Uncle Luke, a young Ben is sent to Kashyyyk to hide out with his Uncle Chewie. TBH a much better plan, and the inspiration for this fic. 
> 
> A few notes before we get going - this is going to be a long one (current outline puts us at about 16 chapters), points of view will be alternating between chapters (ben odds, hux evens), this fic is pre-rated E (though smut scenes do not show up until chapter 5), and I basically tossed out 90% of what that awful holiday special out the window to make a much better Life Day IMHO (if you hated that movie this is the place for you, if you're gonna get mad at me for ignoring holiday special canon then you might want to click the back button). 
> 
> Enjoy?

There was something inherently peaceful about being high up in a tree. He had some theories about it -  the Force energy flowing through the branches around him, the proximity to space, the ability to remain hidden in the dense foliage - in any case, it was easier to pretend the meditate up in the branches of a wroshyr tree, than sitting on the floor of his apartment.

Properly meditating was out of the question.

He’d never really learned how. Oh, he’d intended to. There’d been plenty of lessons about it. He could remember his Uncle’s endless frustration with his inability to find his inner focus.

Back then he’d had a habit of talking back, and quickly insisted that the real reason for his lack of meditation what that there was simply no peace within him. Never had been, never will be. Everyone else just assumed that he took too much after his mother, that forcing him to train would only end in misery, that it might bring forward that quiet fury hidden beneath the surface.

There was a reason Leia Organa had become a Senator and a General rather than a Jedi.

It was for a similar reason that Ben was here now.

Of course, Ben had chosen his family over his career, unlike other people. Other people who couldn’t take the holiday off because there was a _war_ going on. The First Order endlessly on the rise, the Resistance needing every willing and able hand that they can manage. Except apparently his own hands.

His fist hits against the wood of the wroshyr tree in order to relieve some of the frustration that burns within him.

A part of him knows that he shouldn’t be angry with his family for being unable to return for Life Day. And yet, as he had sat there listening to his mother’s holo he could not help the feeling. It was his eternal curse, to feel each emotion so intimately, until they threaten to overwhelm him.

The problem wasn’t with an unwillingness to journey to Kashyyyk, but an unwillingness to let him leave. They all must do they duty, but apparently Ben was to be eternally excluded from that.

For his protection.

That was the same excuse they had been giving him since he was ten years old and sent away.

He doesn’t have to wonder what the rest of the galaxy thinks.

He’s heard the cover story.

Maybe it’s easier to pretend that the general lost her son in the same Jedi temple massacre that stole her young niece and twin brother away. To pretend that Ben Organa-Solo never existed.

He considers slipping away from time to time. Stealing one of the transports that they use for patrols or winning a small craft in a game of sabbac down at the spaceport. Heading out for open space, with an assumed name, joining the war that everyone he is related to seems more than content to keep him out of. It’s not like anyone could really stop him. There was no one who -

“Pup.”

Ben jolts at the growl of Shyriiwook in his direction. There’s no way to muffle the reaction, to slip away from the summons.

Still he refuses to slip from his perch, glaring down at the furry figure on the bridge below him. Ben affects an affronted tone when he speaks. “I was meditating.”

The Wookie beneath him lets out a dismissive huff. “No.”

“I was _trying_ ,” Ben points out. The distinction makes no difference to his friend.

“Stop trying,” Lowbacca replies. The best advice Ben has ever heard, regrettably it's followed by, “Come help.”

“If this is about the fireworks, I told Tarchiir that I-”

“No.”

“No,” Ben echoes the word in basic.

“No.”

He waits for more of an explanation but none comes.

Typical Lowbacca.

On anyone else, Ben could use the Force to get the answer he wanted. Could reach into the mind of the Wookie below him and sort through the cryptic Shyriiwook. The minds of others had always been open to him, the Force illuminating other people's most intimate feelings and thoughts to him as easily as breathing. The only issues was with other Force sensitives.

Lowbacca’s mental walls were well built, the few years he had spent training with Luke before returning to his home planet gave him the advantaged over Ben’s unhoned gifts.

Figures he would find the only other Force sensitive on the whole damn planet to be friends with.

He jumps down from his perch landing on the bridge beside Lowbacca. The Wookie is unimpressed with him. As usual.

“So,” Ben drawls, stretching up to his full height as he does so. Even doing so still means that he has to look up to meet the Wookie’s eyes. An inconvenience that seems to constantly plague Ben. Being tall by human standards counts for nothing when even the smallest of Wookie children seem to stand at his height. It’s no wonder after living almost two decades on this planet everyone is still keen to call him _pup_.

At least it was better than what they called his father.

_Bald Son of Chewbacca_.

Yes, _pup_ had a much more tolerable ring to it.

“Not fireworks,” Ben says, when he eventually does meet Lowbacca’s gaze.

“No,” Lowbacca says. Again.

No has easily become his least favorite word.

“If you’re going to keep being vague-”

“Waroo captured an Imperial.”

That shuts him right up.

\---

There had been a time, years ago when Ben had first arrived on this planet, in which he had attempted to convince the members of his new found clan that the group currently terrorising the galaxy were not in fact _Imperials_.

The First Order was more of the bargain brand, in Ben’s opinions. The Imperial knockoffs who had failed to realize that their time for ruling the galaxy had long since passed. They festered in the Outer Rim, pretending to be the last remnants of high society.  

Of course, none of the Wookie’s had listened to his long explanations.

The sun set, rose again, and still they called them Imperials.

In the end it boiled down to simply linguistics.

The Shyriiwook word for Imperial was easiest to say.

The man standing in front of him was clearly a member of the First Order. He hadn’t even bothered to properly disguise himself, still wearing the black mock-Imperial uniforms with their red crest on the arm.

Truth be told, Ben wouldn’t have even needed the uniform to know.

Not only was the man’s mental wavelengths projecting a devotion to his organization (along with a very clear speciest disgust towards the Wookie population), but he wore on his face the sort of entitled look that was trademark to them. Smug superiority, combined with rigid posture, and an indignant tone as he berate the Wookie guard that had captured him. A tone that was only cut off when he noticed Ben’s approach.

“Finally,” the man’s relief at the sight of another human being is tinged with annoyance at his circumstances. “Someone other than these infernal creatures. Tell them to stand down.”

The problem with most off worlders is that none of them ever seemed to understand Shyriiwook. Speaking it was out of the question, most humanoids vocal cords were not formed in the right manner. Understanding it was another story, perfectly obtainable. Personally, Ben found the language easy. He'd been listening to it since he was no more than a babe,as well as the fact that the Force made it easy to understand any language spoken since he had a direct line to every living being's brain through his connection to the Force, whether they were willing or not.

Which made his job within the clan an obvious one, a translator was necessary more often than not, and one that took to any language as if it were his native one was even better.

“They understand Basic,” Ben says.

The look of indignation clear not only on the face of their prisoner but also in his mind, as well as disbelief. He had assumed that anyone that could not speak his language would not understand him. This was the sort of ignorance that the First Order cultivated.

Listening to the frustration inside their prisoner’s mind was almost entertaining. Once he got over his disbelief, his thoughts turned into a series of colorfully worded statements, none of which are even vaguely polite.

Ben's lips quirk up as one of them quickly labels him as a _half feral jungle child_ , before going on to insult his manner of dress.

He smoothes his hands over his soft green tunic at the mention. The worn fabric wasn’t meant to look nice for off worlders, but to help him blend into the tree around him. Function over fashion. Though foolishly as he listens to their prisoner’s mental barrage, Ben wishes he was dressed in something nicer, or that he had least donned his formal robes for the holiday.  

“Mr. Hux,” Ben says, searching the man before him’s brain for a name. “My cousin tells me you crash landed here?”

Technically Lumpawaroo had said something along time lines of resisting the urge to rip the Imperial limb from limb, but as Hux had already proven not to speak LANGUAGE, Ben figured it best not to mention that.

“My transport malfunctioned,” Hux insists.

It's a lie.

 

A blatant lie.

Though determining the truth is harder than Ben would like. He's never met a non-Force sensitive with such impressive mental shields. In order to break these ones down enough to get the information he wants, he would need physical contact with the prisoner, but at the moment he could sense that was going to be out of the question.

“If you would allow me to have it moved to the planets spaceport,” Hux continues, unawake that Ben has already stopped listening to his lies. “That way I can have the necessary repairs made and be on my way. I would-”

Ben clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

It’s a terrible habit. One he only does when he's intending to annoy someone.

Thankfully, Hux seems like the type to be easily annoyed.

“No can do.”

“Excuse me.”

“It's Life Day.”

He gets a blank look in return.

Typical off worlders.

“Two week holiday in which all matters of business and politics are put on hold to celebrate the tree which gives us life?”

Another blank look.

“It's a big deal here.”

Hux contemplates this. The gears in his brain turning so loudly that even with his shields up Ben can hear them. He moves through a series of emotions rapidly, anger, frustration, suspension of belief, followed by recalculation.

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks,” Ben confirms.

“I can't wait two weeks,” Hux insists. “I have things I need to do. Work, for the betterment of the Galaxy. Do you not understand what the First Order does? We promote peace in a lawless Galaxy. Without order there it nothing. You cannot tell me that I have to wait two _fucking_ weeks while you worship from Maker damned tree.”

The betterment of the Galaxy. What a fucking joke.

“Look Mr. Hux.”

“Captain,” Hux corrects.

Yet another lie.

Why one would bother to lie about their rank was beyond Ben. The man before him doesn’t look old enough to be anything beyond a Commandant.

Maybe.

Even that seems to be pushing it.

No, he’s probably ranked lower. A Lieutenant talking himself up to feel more important seemed more like it.

“ _Captain Hux,_ ” Ben corrects. Making certain his tone carries his disbelief. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. No matter what you're here for two weeks. End of story.”

“Fuck you.”

He knows he shouldn't rise to the bait.

Tries to remember the old Jedi sayings that used to serve as his nursery rhymes.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

He fails once more.

“It's a shame that your transport didn't malfunction one day sooner. Then you could've been on your way, or sentenced to your death.” Ben shrugs ,turning away from Hux, shooting Lumpawaroo a look. “I think the Captain is ready to go to his cell now.”

\---

He ends up helping out with the fireworks, simply because he needs to keep himself busy.

His mind eternally fluctuating between the new prisoner being kept in one of their cells and the war that he's forbidden to take part in. Each emotional state threatening to overwhelm him if he allows himself to dwell on it.

If he can keep his hands busy, keep himself focused on crafting the fireworks, the thoughts of everything else goes away. He supposes in a way it was almost like mediation. Piss poor meditation, but meditation nonetheless.

And yet - still the feelings creep in.

The notion that those fears he had as a young boy might finally be coming true. That the FIrst Order found out where he was and has sent someone to kill him off, to end the line of Anakin Skywalker once and for all. He was old enough now to know that this was unlikely, if Hux had been sent here to kill him, it would have been clear in his mind the second they laid eyes on each other.

The malfunctioning transport story was clearly a lie, but there were plenty of other reasons why a member of the First Order could be on Kashyyyk. The Empire had always made their speciest intentions clear, they had a history of subjugating other species. Wookie’s in particular, had gotten their fair share of it. No wonder the entire clan seemed to be on high alert the second an _Imperial_ had been found in town.

If Lumpawaroo had pushed their prison around a bit more, well, his cousin had every reason to.

“Pup.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” Ben points out. An endlessly useless argument.

“Bigger.”

Lumpawaroo had known him since he was no more than a babe. Their fathers bounded together through a life debt, one that had extended to their sons without ever really talking about it. Lumpawaroo had been the first one to take him in when he’d arrived on Kashyyyk. He’d stayed with his cousin for some time after his arrival, until he found his place in the clan.

For that reason Lumpawaroo was probably the one who knew him best. Though Lowbacca came in a close second due to his Force sense.

“You’re distracted.”

He shoots Lowbacca a glare across the firework field. The Force sensitive Wookie shrugging his shoulders all but confirming that he had gotten their mutual cousin to talk to Ben.

When he looks back at Lumpawaroo it is with a blank look. “Aren’t I always?”

“More than usual.”

He wishes Lumpawaroo would drop it, would let him help with the fireworks, and have that be the end of it. But he knows better than to believe that could be enough. Lumpawaroo will need _something_ before he drops the topic. There was a reason his cousin was on a fast track to being a clan leader. He was persistent.

“Our dads aren’t coming back for Life Day,” Ben says, “In case you haven’t heard.”

“I had.”

“And you’re not upset?”

Lumpawaroo shrugs.

Though his mental state does not belay his physical movements. It’s disappointment that plagues his cousin, a familiar disappointment.

“It’s rude not to ask.”

This time it is Ben’s turn to shrug his shoulders.

“You should meditate,” Lumpawaroo says.

He doesn’t want to meditate. He never wants to meditate. But an excuse to slip away, to hide away from the festivities that he is in no mood to take part in, is something that Ben is not willing to so easily pass up.

“You’re right, I think I will.”

It’s a lie, but no one calls him on it, so it hardly counts as one.

\---

He tries to pretend that checking on the prisoner can count as a distraction. That perched up in the branches about Hux’s cell, he can pretend to find some semblance of peace. It’s a half hearted attempt.

Rather than even bothering to assume a meditative stance, Ben leans against one of the larger tree branches, watching as Hux paces back and forth across the open platform that is to be his cell.

Ben had always liked how the Wookie’s had built their cells for humanoid species. Instead of locking them away in some sort of underground levels, they’d build platforms that were open and exposed to nature. Trees with the branches cut away so that it was impossible to climb out of the platforms, located so high up that to jump down would be certain death.

And well, if they wanted to die for their cause, it was all too easy to step over the edge.

Luckily Hux didn’t seem like the type to jump.

In fact, he seemed to actively fear the notion of doing so. His pacing across the cell stopped such that he was at least two feet from the edge when he turned on his heel.

The anxiety radiating off of the man was stiffing, such that even from his position up in the branches Ben felt as though he was suffocating. Each breath burns through his lungs, his hands shake against his willing of them, and somewhere in the back of his mind an unfamiliar voice reminds him of a need to regulate his breathing.

He wonders if Hux realizes just how strongly he is projecting. He had mental shields that made Ben suspicious that the Captain below him might possess minor Force sensitivity, but his level of projection was similar to the most high strung of mundanes.

These conflicting aspects of Hux makes him into an enigma that Ben desperately wants to solve.

Step one of solving that means losing his hiding place, and announcing himself to the man below. A small part of Ben cannot help but wonder with such clear signs of anxiety, if his falling from the sky, might startle their prisoner into having a heart attack.

Of course, that’s exactly why he does it.

Rather than the startled look or one sudden onset heart attack like Ben had been expecting, Hux looks thoroughly unimpressed by Ben's landing.

He stares at Ben for a long moment.

Ben gets seven seconds counted down mentally in Hux’s voice, before the man before him sucks in a deep breath and beginning with the same indignant rambling tone he had before. “Do you realize how poor the construction of this cell is? If you could even call it that. There's no walls. In case you somehow missed this there are _no walls._ I could jump off and there's nothing you could do to stop me.”

“Others have.”

Hux doesn't react to the bait. Ben’s only a little bit disappointed by that.

“If I had a jet pack I could just fly off of here. None of your little furry friends searched me, for all you know I could have a jet pack.”

“You don't have a jet pack.”

“Of course I don't fucking have a jet pack,” Hux insists, “it was an example. The point is-”

“You had a point?”

“Yes I had a point,” Hux replies sharply, “This is unethical. I can't sleep for fear of rolling over and falling to my death. It's unbearably windy up here and two _fucking_ weeks. When I get back I’ll-”

“Attack us with your impressive fleet,” Ben cuts him off. “And this is exactly why nobody wants to let you go. In case you haven't noticed they're not to fond of Imperials out here, or ignorant off worlders in general.”

This quites Hux for a moment.

He heaves a sigh.

The sort of painful _not being paid enough for this_ sigh, that reminds him of his mother. The great General Organa sighed like that a lot, Ben used to try imitating her, though he could never get it right. Hux, on the other hand, could win in a mimicry contest.

“How do you fit into all of this?”

“I'm a translator,” Ben offers his hands, showing his empty palms,  “I translate things.”

“So basically a glorified protocol droid.”

His mind instantly jumps to C3PO. The droid that had been a series of Ben’s constant annoyances as a child.

“Basically.”

“Seems like a waste of potential,” Hux offers. It’s supposed to be a peace offering, Ben can sense that, but it’s a weak one.

“We all have to pull our weight in the clan. Don't tell me your order doesn't have similar concepts.”

Hux makes a face at the comparison.

He doesn't like being compared to what he considers lawless creatures. It's a curious distinction, the _us_ versus _them_ mentality, as if one being is more sentient than the other.

Hux is also still trying to figure out if Ben is half Wookie or not. The words _cousin_ and _clan_ throw him off every time. Though as of yet he's been unwilling to voice the questions that have been plaguing him, something that Ben cannot help but find endly humerous.

Ben figures he may as well take one burden off of Hux’s mind.

“I'm adopted.” It's not quite a lie, but certainly not the truth.

Thankfully, it doesn’t matter since Hux seems to buy it.

“There's going to be fireworks soon.”

Changing the topic is better than dwelling on matters of family. Especially when Ben is still angry about the fact that none of his are attending the holiday.

“For Life Day,” Ben continues. “Everyone gathers together to watch them, figured you might be lonely.”

Thankful, that is the feeling Hux projects subconsciously. Ben could dwell in that feeling, cling to it like a child unwilling to let go of its favorite toy. He barely manages to resist the urge to do so.

Instead he settles down on the platform, sitting on the stable wooden floor. It takes a second but eventually Hux sits down. Though the tension still clings to his form.

“Only eleven more days to go, Captain.”

  


 


	2. Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned for updates to come every Saturday, but I'm going out tomorrow evening so I figured that tonight was better than waking up and doing it before I leave in the morning.

He's going to die.   

Whether from rolling off this platform in his sleep, by the ruling of the Wookie council, or by Snoke’s orders when he returns. His death is almost inevitable at this point.

The first order did not stand for failure, not even the youngest of their order to ever achieve the rank of General was exempt from this.

He hadn't even wanted to be on this Maker forsaken planet. There was work to do for the Order, his flagship to run, and yet it was here that he had been forced. Following half mad leads to planets inhabited by beings that did not even speak Basic, in search of a link to lead them to the last Jedi.

A Force sensitive Wookie that may have been a former student of Skywalker’s.

Hux didn't even believe in the Force.

He supposed that making that opinion clear to Snoke might have been exactly why he was sent on this mission.

It was punishment.

Unjust punishment, but punishment nonetheless.

The First Order was keen on this sort of thing, it was one of their pillars of success. Retribution, that was the pillar he was currently being crushed underneath. The insistence that every action warranted and equal reaction. This particular pillar had brought him trouble at the academy, because when he had tried to push just a bit too far, and ended with bruised knuckles in return.

Being send to the Wookie planet on a fool’s mission was not unlike those academy punishments.

He tugs his arms around his chest. Insisting that it is the cold, not loneliness that leaves him feeling hollow. If he had his great coat he would be warmer, but that had been left onboard the Finalizer, the need to appear less than his rank had been important in the event of his capture. Still, Hux longs for the security of its weight over his shoulder.

A package falls from the sky, nearly hitting Hux in its descent. He shoots a glare up at the Wookie standing on the bridge above him.

“Let me contact the First Order,” he calls up at this one, as he has done with all the other Wookies who have passed by. “I need to have my whereabouts accounted for.”

Despite his translators insistence yesterday that the Wookies speak Basic, Hux has seen no proof of it. This once acts just like the others, ignoring his demands once again.

He stares up at the Wookie until he moves out of his sight line, only then does he move to the bundle that had been tossed down. Freeing the green cloth wrapping to expose a small loaf of bread, hard and brown, and a small water canteen.

At least he knows that he won’t be dying of starvation.

Hux tears at the bread carefully, wishing for a knife and butter, unwilling to stuff his face like a savage despite the hunger inside of him. It is only once he has meticulously teared off a bite size piece that he stuffs it into his mouth.

He wants to pace again, even though he knows it’s a fruitless endeavor.

The series of mind healers he went through back during his academy days had always been quick to point it out. That pacing was a lack of order, that allowing his anxiety to manifest in such a visible way was something that he ought to be ashamed of.

But what else was there to do?

Two weeks.

Two _fucking_ weeks.

He stuffs another piece of bread in his mouth.

\---

The next time one of the Wookie’s come by he changes tactics. Instead of asking to send a holo and having his request ignored, he tries something simpler.

“Translator. I need the translator.”

He’s pleasantly surprised when rather than simply walking away the Wookie roars something indecipherable down to him, before leaving in the same direction from whence he came.

The _translator_.

Despite the other man’s arrival in his cell the night before, Hux had not managed to figure out his name.

He could remember his features well enough - eyes which had been a dark color and yet so warm, too wide lips that formed an almost teasing smile, dark waves of hair falling unkempt around his face - each aspect of him seemed seared into Hux’s memory.

Not without reason.

It was like someone had plucked images from Hux’s most private and perverse of fantasies and brought them to life before him. A distraction from this mission, that is what this man would surely be, the type of distraction that Hux could not allow himself to indulge in.

And yet, a necessity.

It seems as though the Maker was keen on making his life more difficult.

Hux steadies himself, refusing to react as his request is granted and the figure of his translator manages to somehow fall gracefully from the trees above him. He does manage to school his features into something thoroughly unimpressed.

His translator meets him with that same infuriating almost smile from the day before.

A distraction.

A Maker damned distraction.

A Maker damned distraction that is currently offering him a _piece of chocolate_.

“Is this a trick?”

He shrugs, popping the offered treat into his mouth. Hux cannot help the hint of regret that rises up inside of him for not having reached out and grabbed sweet treat while it was being offered to him.

As if sensing that very thought, the translator smiles at him, before digging into a pouch on his belt and pulling out more of the treats wrapped in a white cloth.

“I promise they’re not poisoned,” he says, offering another.

This time Hux lets his manners slip away as he reaches out for the treat.

When it passes his lips, he cannot help but let out a small noise of pleasure. It’s sweet. Reminding him of his youth, of the rare days at the academy where they would be allowed to indulge.

“Thank you,” Hux says, once he has finished the treat. “Uh… Forgive me, I don’t believe I ever got your name.”

“No, I suppose not, Captain,” he replies. “It’s Ben.”

“That doesn’t sound very _native_.”

“I thought I told you I was adopted,” Ben teases, before offering Hux the bundle of treats.

He hesitates before reaching out for them. It still feels like a trick. Hux knows that type, he’s been trained in advance arts of interrogation. Some species and cultures believed in having a person to lighten a prisoner up before the more dangerous one stepped up to offer the punishment. Letting his guard down, just because the man before him looked like something out of those foolish fantasies Hux used to have at night, would be a fool’s mistake.

“Don’t worry there’s more where that came from,” Ben says, pressing the bundle into Hux’s hands. “Mallatobuck always makes way too many for his stand. Usually gives me some as a pity gift, since there’s no chance in all nine hells that anyone would buy them for me as a courting gift. Can’t say I complain too much but-”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Ben stops, his eyes sliding over Hux’s features in a way that is clearly meant to be scrutinizing. Hux used to such looks, straightens his posture instinctively and meets the gaze head on.

“So, you know they’re not poisoned?

“No,” Hux shakes his head. “You’re trying to get me to trust you. It’s a basic tactic with prisoners, they trained us in this. Despite the fact that I have already told you that I have nothing to hide, no more than anyone else. I simply had a transport malfunction, and if you let me repair my ship-”

“I know you’re lying,” Ben cuts him off. “Not about the interrogation tactic, I mean, it makes sense. I don't’ know much about how your Order interrogates people; Normally people talk quickly around here what with the threat of being torn limb from limb. My cousin might have looked soft and fuzzy when he took you in, but he’s far from that. Thankfully, you arrived during a time of peace, which means you have eleven days to come to your senses and tell the real reason you’re here,” Ben’s lips tip up into an easy smile. “Now _Captain_ , you’re not in a bad position, I assume you’re following orders. You tell us who gave the orders and what they are, we pass on the information to the right parties, and you’re free to go. I mean, you’ve committed treason and your Order will probably want your head on a platter, but we can work something out. Kashyyyk is nice in the winter, it might grow on you.”

“Fuck off.”

The words spill from his lips easily, unable to restrain them. He knows his hands are shaking, it is impossible that the movements could have gone missed, but he tucks them into his pockets nevertheless, in a meager attempt to stem the involuntary motion/

“Now Captain-”

“I told you before, my transport malfunctioned,” Hux says. His voice shakes even to his own ears, the syllables crashing together uncertainly. Not convincing in the slightest. “If you’re going to accuse me of being a liar, you can fuck off.”

He doesn’t expect him to go.

A good interrogator wouldn’t go. Not until they got the answers that they needed.

But Ben just shrugs his shoulders once more.

“Call me if you need me.”

“I won’t.”

\---

The next few days pass by slowly.

The nights are endlessly cold. The wind sweeping through the platform causing Hux to fear falling to his death every few minutes, sleep all but out of the question, and that’s not even counting the fireworks that come to mark each night’s passing

The days are just as dull. The mornings are punctuated by the bundle of bread and water falling down, a second bundle which comes shortly before sunset.Otherwise, he is left alone, no guards to be seen, no sign of his translator returning once more.

Four days pass with nothing but this empty platform for company.

He’s been imprisoned before, but never like this, and never for this long. Even the intensive training he’d gone through at the academy hadn’t been been this long or slow. Twenty-four hours of near constant torture seemed more tolerable than this.

Most simply put, he was bored.

Bored and anxious.

A frightful combination.

Perhaps that had been the plan after all, and he had underestimated these creatures. They weren’t going to kill him, no they were going to drive him insane. To the point where he was seeing things in the night, the paranoia sinking into his veins, creating humanoid shadows in the branches above him.

“You’re not paranoid.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, jolting upwards from his prone position on the floor of his cell.

He hadn’t realized that he had been speaking aloud. The sleep deprivation was apparently finally taking it’s toll.

“Have you been watching me sleep,” Hux asks, shouting upwards towards where Ben’s voice had come from.

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

There’s a noise sort of like a laugh before a shadowy figure falls from the branches above and lands on the platform beside him.

“You didn’t ask for me,” Ben says, sounding almost put off by this fact. “I was worried you might have actually rolled off the platform in the middle of the night. You are a frightful sleeper.”

“You _have_ been watching me.”

He wonders what he is supposed to feel about this realization. Violated in all likelihood, maybe even offended, but he feels the exact opposite of that. Something like lust courses through him at the thought that Ben could have been here night after night watching over him, mere steps away from joining him.

Is he so desperate for human contact that even this jungle boy can manage to excite him? Or is it perhaps the true juxtaposition between order and disorder. A part of him wants to let Ben overtake him, to corrupt Hux with his dirtied hands. While another part of him wants to take Ben in, to cultivate him into the image of a civilized humanoid.

Those are thoughts he cannot dwell on, not here on a platform, with nowhere to relieve himself what would go unnoticed.

Still, as the stars illuminate Ben’s features, it is hard not to find him attractive.

Though it does become easier when the next words off of Ben’s lips are, “Tell me why you’re really on Kashyyyk.”

“My transport crashed-”

Ben groans. “Fine, don’t tell me the whole truth, but tell me something. Give me a reason not to jump off this platform and leave you here to your paranoia.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t paranoid.”

Ben doesn’t answer him.

It’s too dark to see exactly where his gaze lies, but Hux seems to sense it crawling along up his spine, reaching into the very essence of his soul.

Paranoid.

He’s just being fucking paranoid again.

He doesn’t mean to confess anything, shouldn’t, not if he wants to live, but the words come anyways. Editted, but more than the excuse which he had long since practiced for this mission.

It seems Kashyyyk managed to break him after all.

“You’re right, my transport didn’t malfunction, I forced it down. I needed an excuse to linger around the spaceport for a few days. It’s mostly a recon mission. I may have misjudged my landing.” This much was all true, it was the part that came after which blurred the lines. “There’s someone - I’m not privy to the name - a Wookie with ties to the resistance, there had been mentions that he might be on planet during this time of year.”

He doesn’t expect much of a reaction out of Ben. Hopes for a hint of something, a sudden burst of unease to prove that this mission was not a complete bust, that the Force sensitive Wookie did truly exist.

What he got instead was far more _illuminating_.

Ben lets out a frustrated noise. “You figure he’d come back for Life Day right? Like if anything they would come back for _fucking_ Life Day. I always hated the holiday when I was younger, the stupid journey to the tree, the robes, but it was manageable because at least everyone came home. But not this year, no - instead we get a holo saying _sorry_ but the wannabe Imperials-”

“We’re called the First Order.”

The glare he gets in return is unmistakable even in the dark. “It doesn’t matter. The point is they didn’t come back, so not only is my holiday apparently ruined, but so is yours and this is just - so typical, right? I mean Lumpawaroo is here, and he’s my cousin so he has to be nice, but he’s got a mate now, which means even that-”

“I’m here,” Hux offers.

It’s weak. Nothing special, but it stops Ben from ranting, for a second.

Allows Hux to process everything that he’s being told, to sort the information into tiny boxes within his mind. Cousins, connections to the horrible resistance. Perhaps Ben was more than just a distraction crafted by the Maker to plague him, maybe he was a way to make this mission into something other than a complete failure. Anyone with ties to the Resistance, and resentment towards them that could be fueled to benefit the First Order, was an ally worth playing along with for the time being.

“That is if you’re looking for company.”

 


	3. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr I keep insisting that I update this fic on Saturdays, and yet - here comes another Friday update instead. Oops?

“I know this sounds like a bad idea,” Ben says, “But I assure you I’ve had worse ideas.”

Lumpawaroo cannot deny that, nobody could.

A young Ben had once been famous for his terrible ideas, something that Ben no longer took pride in, but could use to his advantage if need be. Or so he hoped.

“Isn’t the festival about family and forgiveness, and since _our_ family didn’t show up, and Hux is without a family present,” Ben’s excuses get weaker the longer he attempts to explain himself. At this point, he’s just hoping to wear Lumpawaroo down. The longer the two of them stood around debating this the longer he was keeping his cousin from joining his mate and going to the Life Day festivities. “Isn’t it our duty to be welcoming? It’s the first day we let off worlders join in and-”

A snort like noise interrupts him, “We do not welcome Imperials.”

“I know why he’s here,” Ben says, as a last ditch attempt.

He still isn’t completely sure why he’s asking this.

It would be easier to leave the prisoner where he is, to let him rot up there on that cell until the festivities were over. But something draws him back to Hux night after night, more than just the need to investigate the one person that might be enough to prove himself able to make a change in this war. To prove himself to his mother and the rest of the Resistance.

Somehow in a matter of nights watching Hux sleep, things had changed.

Ben’s still not certain what that adjustment means, but having Hux out with him in the light of day, in the middle of their Life Day celebrations, might be the best place to investigate.

“Why?” Lumpawaroo’s gruff growl brings Ben back to himself.

He hates to lie to his cousin, but telling Lumpawaroo that Hux was sent here to investigate in hopes of finding Chewbacca - Lumpawaroo’s father - would not be the best if he wanted Hux to live much longer.

There was some saying about a Wookie scorned, and it never ended well for the offender.

“It’s classified, complicated, but I promise it’s nothing serious,” Ben says, “I just promised him not to say anything until the hearing with the council. The point is, Lumpy, he’s harmless.”

When the next words his cousin says are, “Don’t call me Lumpy, Pup,” he knows he’s won.

\---

He drops into Hux’s cell unannounced, and is as per usual, met with an unimpressed look. A look that seems to be permanently fixed onto Hux’s face, one that he has practiced time and time again unwilling to let his true emotions show. Of course, Ben can see beyond the expression and sense the emotions beneath.

Surprise to see him in the light of day triumphs over most others, as well as something else that stops him in his place. He had noticed an undercurrent of it before, an attraction stemming from the other man, interest in him that went beyond seeing him as a potential ally.

Despite being the only human in town, he was not unfamiliar with the notion. There had been other visitors, and the spaceport was not too far away if he had ever found himself in need of company for the night, but never anything that lasted more than the necessary moments to find their own pleasure. He was always a convenience never a true desire.

In this sense , the attraction he felt from Hux was surprising, and not altogether unpleasant. He could preen underneath its silent presence all while knowing that nothing would come of it.

It wasn’t as though Ben had any interest in fucking some wannabe Imperial.

Well -

His eyes slip over Hux’s features. He supposes the scowl that he seems to be forcing onto his face could almost be considered endearing. It wasn’t as though he was unattractive it was just that -

“Is something the matter,” Hux says, cutting off his train of thought. He’d been silent too long, long enough to plant a seed of worry in the features of the man before him. Ben can feel Hux’s anxiety rising momentarily, particularly when  he casts his gaze upwards to where Lumpawaroo stands still on the bridge above them.

“No,” Ben says quickly, a bit too quickly perhaps. “I actually have good news.”

“Good news,” is echoed back to him in a wary tone.

“I’ve secured your release,” Ben says, pointedly waving his hand up at the bridge above him, where his cousin will lower to rope ladder down to them. “Sort of.”

The excitement that had split across Hux’s features clouds a bit at the _sort of_. “What you do mean?”

Ben shifts his weight from one foot to the other, purposely looking away from Hux’s searching gaze. “You’re still our prisoner, and you still have to stand trial before the council, but the next few days are the ones we welcome off worlders to join in the celebrations and I figured you’d rather see what Kashyyyk has to offer instead of sitting here in your cell all day while the rest of us enjoy ourselves.”

Hux doesn’t respond for a long moment.

Long enough that Ben cannot help himself from mentally reaching out  - he never could, not really - but now he reaches with purpose needing to know what Hux is thinking of this. What he is met with is not surprising.

Hux doesn’t trust him.

Ben doesn’t trust him either.

“Can I holo-”

“They vetoed that,” Ben cuts him off. “I wouldn’t push it if I were you.”

“Is this a trap?”

“Would you expect me to tell you if it were?”

Hux shakes his head. “I suppose not. I wouldn’t tell you were our situations reversed.”

A smile flits across Ben’s features reflexively. “Then it’s settled. Now, before we go I need you to change.”

Hux’s posture stiffens instantly. His arms coming up to protectively cross over his chest and clutch at the arms of his dirty uniform in an almost protective stance. Clinging to it as a child might to a comforting blanket.

“Look in case you haven’t noticed we’re very anti-Imperial-”

“First Order.”

“Who gives a fuck?”

“I do,” Hux snaps.

He’s shaking.

It’s subtle.

Something Ben would hardly have noticed had he not been in the middle of shooting the other man an irritated glare, but now that he has noticed it, he cannot unsee it. Cannot unfeel the tension and hatred that seems to sink inside of him.

When Ben takes a step forward, Hux startles backwards, all but leaping in his attempt to get away.

He’s not close enough to the edge to be in danger, not really. There’s at least a foot until the edge, two more steps back and he’d still be on solid ground but after that… Ben reaches out without thinking, his hand curling in the fabric of Hux’s uniform, holding him steady and in place.

“Everyone has to wear red, okay, it’s traditional, even off worlders,” Ben says. “You want to leave this cell you have to change, that’s the rule.”

He’s dressed in red as well, not the long robes his Wookie clan members wear, but burgundy pants and a deep red tunic top. In any other circumstance the two shades of red would clash, but here during the Life Day celebrations it wasn’t enough to warrant a second glance from most people.

Though he watches as Hux gives him that second glance. Focusing this time on his clothing, not on his person. His uncomfortable expression has not changed.

“Look, you could probably keep the pants if you really want to,” Ben offers, “Just swap out your shirt?”

He stuck his neck out to get Hux a day out from the cell. Ben tells himself that that’s the only reason he’s still pushing, that and the fact that lulling Hux into a sense of familiarity might mean him letting more slip about the First Order and his mission here.

It’s not as if he really wants the company.

“Fine,” Hux says, giving a jerky nod towards Ben’s satchel.

Ben watches for a moment, transfixed as Hux moves to unbutton his uniform top. It is only by the time he’s undone the third button, exposing the pale flesh of his neck and his collarbone, that Ben remembers he’s supposed to be pulling out something for Hux to change into.

The clothing in the bag is his own, likely too large for Hux’s thin frame, but it’s better than putting him in a traditional Wookie robe, and much better than allowing him to stay in the uniform.

He pulls a deep red sweater from his bag, the slightly worn material going thin at the elbows.

When he looks back towards Hux to offer the sweater, Hux is in the process of meticulously folding his uniform, nothing but a thin black tank clinging to his skin and the hint of a silver chain around his neck.

Ben tosses the sweater quickly at him, so that he has an excuse to look away, and signal to Lumpawaroo to lower to the rope.

He barely registers a muffled mumbled of, “Thanks,” behind him.

\---

They don’t exactly blend in with the crowd, but they don’t stick out like a sore thumb either. Something Ben finds himself immensely grateful for as he leads Hux through the crowded platforms where the masses have gathered to celebrate.

The crowd is diverse this year, off worlders who had been stopped at the spaceport venturing into the heart of the planet to celebrate high up in the trees with the locals. Thee locals more than willing to make a profit on their visitors despite the element of _giving_ which was so central to the holiday’s purpose.

Without Ben’s Force gifts, taking such a high profile prisoner out to enjoy the festivities would be out of the question, but thanks to his gifts it's easy enough to always keep a mental tab on Hux.

He reaches out now, as they slip next to a stand selling crowns made of the native foliage, checking in on Hux once more.

His emotions are clear, the distrust is still strong as is his lack of comfort, but there is also something that attempts to be hidden, a calculating part of him that sees every surge in the crowd as a chance to make a break for it.

“Steady,” Ben says, his hand sliding into the juncture between Hux’s shoulderblades. “Don’t even think about running off.”

“How do you know what I was thinking?”

“It’s what I would be doing in your place,” Ben says, a simple misdirection.

“You would never be in my place,” Hux points out, meaning far more than he is saying, but doing so cryptically enough that Ben does not even bother to try deciphering it.

“Seeing as I’ve never left Kashyyyk, probably not.”

He turns away from Hux at that, his hand still lingering on the other man’s back, a steady presence as he speaks quickly with the Wookie running the stand they’ve stopped at. An old family friend, more than happy to offer Ben two of the crowns for a discounted price. One of which Ben slips onto his head, the leaves slip down onto his forehead. The second of which he slides over Hux’s head.

The fiery orange of his hair contrasts with the green of the leaves.

“Why did you do that?”

“Life Day tradition,” he offers with a shrug. “It looks good on you.”

Hux scowls in return. Something he counts as a meager success, before he tugs the other man on to explore more of the stands.

\---

They’re eating chocolates when Hux tries to escape again. Nothing too serious, nothing he even acts upon, but there’s a desperate look in his eyes as he spots someone’s holo, a look that Ben could not possibly miss.

“Stop that,” he says, this time not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“If you’d just let me-”

“Do we really have to keep going through this?”

Hux turns away from him sharply. Ben watches as Hux fidgets with his snack, breaking it into smaller and smaller pieces rather than actually eating it.

Only once Hux has turned his chocolate into a powder does he speaks, “Why are you doing this? And not the bantha shit about this being a time of year to be nice to people or whatever the fuck your usual answer is, the truth? There’s no way any sane person would let an enemy prisoner out to just _enjoy the festivities_ , there has to be some ulterior plan. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Ben has a practiced answer in his head, the one he’s been ready to say all day, but that’s not what comes out. Instead when he speaks it's a simple admission, “I was lonely.”

An admission that takes Hux off guard if his expression is anything to judge by.

Ben doesn’t dare reach into his mind at this moment, uncertain if he wants to know what Hux is thinking.

“You were lonely,” Hux repeats.

As if Ben’s embarrassment wasn’t already at its peak.

He cringes, before quickly schooling his features into an angry scowl.

“Life Day’s about family, and mine isn’t here, so I just thought - yours isn’t either.”

“Mine would never be caught dead here,” Hux is angry once more. Or maybe defensive is a better word.

Either way, Ben doesn’t like the feeling radiating off of him.

It’s infectious.

Just skimming across the surface makes Ben angrier than he had been in a long time.

“Right, because you’re Imperial scum -  my mistake, First Order scum,” Ben says, before Hux can try to correct him once again. “You know, your little Order doesn’t sound all that fun.”

“The First Order isn’t meant to be _fun_ ,” his lip curls in disgust as he says the word. “The First Order is about order, about bringing civilization to this lawless world, to places like this pit of a planet that you call home. We establish a set of rules and regulations, a way for people to live their lives in peace without disorder and dissent creeping in. The First Order promotes loyalty, and forward progress. It is that failed Republic that gives you this notion and need for _fun_ , for pathetic displays like this. The Republic is a flawed system, an infectious disease which by a fluke of luck managed to take down a glorious Empire that had brought peace to the galaxy-”

“Peace? Is that what you called it. My people were enslaved, my cousin-”

“ _Your_ people. _Your_ cousin.” Hux snorts. “No, see this is the exact problem. You are nothing like them, no - you’re some what? Let me guess - you're just some Corellian brat that got dropped off just as the war was getting good and completely forgotten about?”

“That's enough.”

“No, no it’s an idyllic life you’ve got here, no wonder mummy and daddy were so quick to drop you off. What with your two career choices of hunter or gather?”

He’s trying to bait him, Ben knows that, but it hits too close to home.

His fingers reach instinctively for the blaster in its holster at his waist. Raising it up even though Hux is defenseless across the table, nothing but his sharp wit to protect him.

“How the fuck do you know I’m Corellian?”

“I didn’t, not for sure, not until now,” Hux admits. His hands raise off the table top a mere inch in a pathetic mimicry of surrender.

Ben does not lower the blaster.

Not until Hux rolls his eyes and says, “You said _nine hells_ a few days ago. Only Corellians believe in nine hells, look it wasn’t a hard connection to make. it’s my job get information from people, to see beyond what they’re saying, and you’re an easy read.”

He tightens his mental shields reflexively, enough though he has not felt Hux reaching out with the Force, and he has very little reason to believe the man in front of him might be Force sensitive, one can never be too careful.

“I’m taking you back to your cell.”

Hux doesn’t look surprised by this at all, rising from his seat with ease, his hands still held out in a small placating gesture.

“Yes, I suppose it’s about that time, isn’t it?”

 

  
  



	4. Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the 24 hour delay on the chapter, google drive was acting up for me last night. Hopefully nobody noticed the delay? Though on that note, advance warning that there will likely be an extra week wait for the next chapter after this one, as the due dates for two big bangs + an exchange are next weekend, and I am always pushing things to the last min. Apologies in advance. (PS: If you're seeing this note, after chapter five has already been posted, please yell at me and remind me to delete this.)

He doesn’t expect Ben to come back. And yet there he is at the crack of dawn, perched next to the edge of the platform that serves as Hux’s cell. How Ben got there without waking Hux up is a mystery.

“Were you watching me sleep again?”

Ben shrugs noncommittally.

Unhelpful.

“Why are you here,” he asks, when his first question is left unanswered.

“It’s still Life Day.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “Has anyone mentioned how absurd it is to call a holiday that lasts twelve standard cycles a _Day_.”

That gets a reaction out of Ben. “I may have asked as much when I first got here.”

Hux files this away in the back of his mind, where he keeps all information he has gathered from Ben. He is still not certain how knowing, that by time Ben was abandoned by the Corellian parents of his, he had been old enough to speak and form coherent memories, will come in handy but he makes note to remember it nevertheless.

Even if only to get an angry reaction from Ben again.

“Come on then, get dressed,” Ben says, rising up from his perched position. “We have to get going.”

Apparently he was getting another day out of his _cell_ \- if one could even call it that - despite their disagreement the day before.

Was Ben honestly that lonely? That starved for human company? Perhaps it was not only the presence of a humanoid figure that he was starved for but-

“You’re a Loyalty Officer, aren’t you?”

Hux freezes, his train of thought stalling at once, as he turns to stare up at Ben with what he hopes is a dismissive expression, his hands gripping the borrowed red sweater just a bit too tight.

The last thing he wanted to talk about was the First Order and his place in it, but he knew this was coming, that Ben’s friendly act was just a subtle attempt at interrogation. It was a predictable tactic though, one Hux had prepared for.

When he says, “Excuse me?” it is with a level tone.

“You said it was your job to read people,” Ben explains, “Except that wouldn’t make sense, not if you’re a Captain. It would be your job to give orders or fly ship, and I know you’ve been lying about your rank.”

He tries not to let his face betray him, but the notion that Ben would have been able to notice that he had given a false rank seemed absurd. He had worn a uniform of a lower rank than his own proper one, had managed to keep his voice steady when offering the rank to his captors, just as he would have when he’d actually held it years before.

Honestly, Hux had expected to be caught in the act at some point, though not in this way. There had been concern of a papertrail, that a First Order _General_ could not have kept his name completely off record.

To have someone notice that he had given a false rank, and yet not know his proper one, was curious.

A small part of him cannot help but wonder if the reason Ben knows has to do with why Hux is here. The Force sensitive Wookie, could have been one of those that had brought him in, or brought his translator to him. Perhaps even the one Ben was quick to call _cousin_.

That would be a shame, for as attractive as Ben was, being the adopted family of a Jedi wasn’t something that would keep him alive much longer.

“I suppose,” Hux says, committing himself to his misdirection, “I am not the only one whose job it is to read people.”

When he’s pulled the sweater over his head, he cannot help himself from looking up towards Ben in order to gauge his reaction. The small smile on Ben’s face lets Hux know that his lie has been bought for the time being.

“So should I still call you _Captain_?”

\---

The area of the _city_ that was dedicated to the celebrations is easier to manage this early in the morning, no one really paying much attention to the two humans wandering about.

Hux is acutely aware of each set of eyes on him, the way they seem to linger suspiciously on him, until they settle on Ben. There’s something about Ben that relaxes these infernal creatures, as if they truly consider him to be one of them.

He doesn’t notice that they’re heading away from the celebration area that he had been shown the day before, until Ben stops at a platform with a ladder leading down towards the ground level.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You reek,” Ben says, a barbed insult, that Hux tries not to let get to him. He is only slightly successful in the endeavor. Scowling at Ben, before moving down the ladder, towards the surface below them.

It is not as if Hux is unaware of his condition. He is being held prisoner, stuck on an open platform with no refresher in which to relieve or cleanse himself. Stuck sleeping in his uniform for the past week, which was now in an unpleasant state of filth and sticking to his body uncomfortably from having sweated in it once more during his uneasy sleep.

Kashyyyk isn’t known for its hospitality towards prisoners.

However Kashyyyk was apparently known for its lakes.

He stares down at the expanse of water with a mix of wariness and relief. Eyes flicking to where his companion has settled against the base of a tree.

“Well, go on then.”

“Are you going to-”

Ben cuts him off with a snort. “I have a ‘fresher.”

“Right,” Hux nods.

_Right._

This wasn't going to be awkward at all. It is not as though Hux has never bathed in a lake before. The Academy had run various simulations and tests that involved dropping young cadets on uninhabited planets with minimal supplies in order to _build character_. This was not too different than that.

He can feel Ben’s eyes on him as he quickly removes his layers.

Carefully folding the borrowed sweater, his black tank, and his pants, on top of each other. Setting them down along with his socks and shoes.

He hesitates only when he gets to his briefs.

When he casts another glance back at Ben, the other man is still watching him. Though this time it feels less like observing at more like _something else_.

In a moment of brief boldness he says, “Like what you see?”

He watches as Ben finally looks away from him, focusing on the water instead. “Some Wannabe Imperial is hardly enough to excite me.”

This time it is Hux’s turn to snort in disbelief.

“You're wasting your time. I have to return you to your cell soon.”

He should've known better than to suppose this would be the same as yesterday, he had been warned not to push it. No doubt Ben was only here on orders to clean up their prisoner.

That's enough to stir him into motion. Finally shucking off his briefs before stepping into the water.

The water is unbearably cold. Sending a sudden chill through Hux. But at least it will help clean him up. He has no soap, none of the bath products he had kept in his rooms on board the Finalizer.

He scrubs at his skin with the frigid water doing his best to rub the dirt off. He'd only moderately successful.

His hair has become a greasy mess after a week of not washing it. The product that had held it in place long since stopped working. He dunks his head under the water. Holding his breath as he runs his fingers until he's satisfied with it.

When he emerges from the water the first thing that hits him is the cool wind on his wet skin.

The second is a more startling gaze that lingers on Hux making him feel more exposed than he ever has before. As though Ben is not just seeing his body, but seeing deep within him, to where his most private of thoughts dwell.

Ben breaks the spell between them, when he tears his eyes away Hux cannot help but feel empty without that gaze on him.

Ben’s voice when he speaks, betrays him. Hux was not the only one to have felt something in that brief moment. “Come on then, _Captain_ , I’ve plans for you yet.”

\---

Ben had given him a red robe to wear this time. Having at some point while Hux was in the water, tucked his clothing away, with just Hux's briefs and shoes left behind.

The robe is long, draping over his body in an excess of fabric, but it's also warm. Something Hux is grateful for as the wind picks up.

They move through the celebration grounds with propose. Slipping among the now growing crowd in what Hux assumes will be the return to his cell.

He tries to memorize the paths they take to get there. Though all the trees start to look the same, blending into one another such that Hux could not find his way back to the lake, even if he had had a plan of escape.

Even so, he's able to tell when they don't head down the proper path back to his cell.

“I thought you said-”

“I changed my mind,” is all the answer he gets. Incredibly cryptic and unhelpful, but Hux is willing to take what he can get, for the most part.

The relief at not going back to his cell leaves him the instant Ben stops before a tree with low hanging branches and begins to move up in it.

He stares up at the tree which Ben is climbing with ease. His feet finding ready footholds as he moves upwards without a ladder to help him.

“Are you coming?”

“I’d rather not.”

This stops Ben’s movements, the other man settling himself on a branch to look down at Hux. “It's this or the cell.”

Neither sounded pleasant.

Hux sucks in a deep breath. Trying and barely succeeding in calming the anxiety that is slowly building up in him. He's faced worse challenges than this, following Ben up the tree can't be _that_ hard. Surely.

He places his hand against the tree trunk.

It is only with the smallest shred of humility that he asks, “What do I do first?”

For someone that is terrible as an interrogator, Ben proves to be an excellent instructor.

Hux feels a small surge of accomplishment when he reaches Ben’s branch. It's large enough for Hux to sit down, with his back pressed security to the tree’s trunk. Though he still doesn't feel entirely safe.

“Is now a bad time to mention that I might be afraid of heights.”

“Don't worry I won't let you fall.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that,” Hux asks.

Ben shrugs, “I'd get in trouble if I let a prisoner fall to his death before we interrogated him.”

“That's reassuring,” Hux replies dryly.

Ben makes an awkward noise that is probably meant to be a laugh. Hux wrinkles his nose at the unpleasant sound.

“What are we doing up here,” he asks, when Ben's quieted down once more.

“Satisfying my idle curiosity.”

“And what happens when you're _satisfied_?”

Ben does answer that question.

Hux is unsure why he expected him to.

A silence settles between them, only disrupted by the sounds of the festivities going on down below. It's almost peaceful, different from the emptiness of his cell.

Like this he could almost imagine he wasn't a prisoner here, but rather a guest. A visiting diplomat. In another life he would make a good diplomat, representing the First Order’s interests throughout the rest of the galaxy, rather than leading an army against them.

He might even get vacation time, a chance to relax and explore the parts of the Galaxy that he had yet to see.

Kashyyyk would never had been on his list of planets to see before he died - but with Ben here…

Hux turns his eyes away from the planet spread out before him to focus on Ben instead.

He appears lost in thought, eyes slipped shut in what Hux would've assumed was meditation on someone else. With his eyes shut, Ben looks like a vision. Dark eyelashes brushing against pale cheeks, a too wide mouth open ever so slightly.

Peaceful.

He looks peaceful.

And _lonely_.

He remembers what Ben had said the day before about feeling that way. It was clear that he was only being brought along for this to satisfy his companions need for human contact.

Watching Ben now it is all too easy to fantasize about other ways he could satisfy that need.

How he could reach across the space between them, brush his fingers against Ben’s skin.  Would he startle at the touch or would he lean into it desperate for more?

Hux wants to imagine he would respond favorably to the touch. That he would not only enjoy it but crave more, that he might cross the space between them and kiss Hux, using his strong arms to ensure that they did not go tumbling to their deaths.

They would probably have to move before anything went further but-

Hux's fantasies stop at once as Ben’s eyes snap open. Their eyes meet in an instant, before Hux tears his gaze away, shame at having been caught staring causes a flush to rise up the back of his neck and to his ears.

“It's getting late, Captain, I should get you back to your cell.”

It is only when Ben mentions it that he realizes just how much time has passed, the sun closer to setting than rising now.

“Hux, just call me Hux, please,” he says, needing to hear Ben say his name again, rather than the false rank.

“Hux.”

He's so startled by the sound of his name coming from Ben that all be can manage is an almost breathless, “Yes?”

“I need to take you back to your cell.”

“Right yes, lead the way.”

  



	5. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delays in posting this chapter up. I was at Indiana Comic Con this weekend (where I met Ian McDiarmid aka Emperor Palpatine), and was far too exhausted last night to post this up. Hope you all enjoy in spite of the delay!

It is surprising how a few simple words can tear down the walls he has constructed around himself in one fell swoop.

"Thank you for making my last days bearable."

Hux says the words offhandedly while eating breakfast in the morning, as though his death were an inevitability and Ben-

Ben suddenly can't remember how to breathe.

At what point, had Hux gone from prisoner or Imperial Scum to something more?

Not quite a friend, but close enough that the thought of him dying, or even just no longer being around, pained Ben.

It's barely been a week.

How could he have gotten attached this quickly?

He knows he should say something - _anything_ \- rather than letting Hux's words hang awkwardly in the space between them, but he cannot manage to speak.

It is as if he no longer comprehends Basic, his mouth opens soundlessly for a moment, but there's nothing he can say.

Hux does not have that problem, and continues on in his pleasantly dry tone. "What? Did they never teach you how to take a compliment?"

His words return enough to reply, "That was a compliment?"

Hux rolls his eyes. "Of course it was. What did you think it was?"

"Morbid."

Another eye roll.

"I am not afraid to die. I've accepted my fate."

"Hux-"

"I knew this was a suicide mission the second I was assigned it. A dead end which would lead to my limbs being ripped off by savage beasts."

Ben tenses at the way in which Hux refers to the Wookies, but does not interrupt. He wants to hear this.

"The fact that that hasn't happened yet and that you..." Hux trails off, looking out over the trees around them. Hux doesn’t finish the sentence, somehow Ben finds himself grateful for this.

"Why would you take a mission if you knew you would fail?"

"I was following orders."

"And you follow every order given to you?"

Hux remains silent rather than answering. He's silent for so long that Ben wonders if he didn't hear the question. Reaching out mentally leaves him with meager results, longing and resignation as the most prominent emotions swirling through Hux's head. Ben wants desperately to push those emotions away, to reach forward and put pleasant thoughts in the place of those terrible ones.

He barely restrains himself.

"You’re welcome."

\---

He's still dwelling on Hux's words by time they make it down to the festivities. Such that he flounders for a moment, nearly losing his sense of Hux in the crowd as they surge around him. It’s only physically locking eyes with him that calms the brief flash of worry that had sprung up in Ben’s mind.

Maybe that was Hux's plan, after all? Distract Ben so that he can barely think straight. It would've been a good plan.

Somehow though he doubts that it was a plan, not with how honest Hux had sounded.

_Careful cub._

Hearing Lowbacca's voice in his head, startles Ben enough that he cannot help but give a visual reaction.

One that Hux does not miss, his face scrunching into a look akin to confusion as he asks, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Ben says quickly. Before shooting Lowbacca a mental reply, _I'm being careful_.

In return he gets two clear senses of disbelief.

He focuses on replying to Lowbacca since there's no way he could explain this to Hux. After all where would he even begin? Surely Hux would look at him like he was insane if he mentioned anything about telepathic communication. And explaining the Force was -

_You're distracted._

This time he doesn't startle when Lowbacca communicates with him.

 _You're distracting me._ Ben insists.

_No._

He would roll his eyes if not for the risk of looking insane.

In the end he responds with a petulant, _Yes._

_No._

This is getting him nowhere. So rather than answering again he pulls up his mental walls to shut the Wookie out. Lowbacca wouldn't be strong enough to break back through them without Ben noticing, though he could still sense the Wookies disapproval.

Instead of dwelling on that anymore, he turned his attention back to Hux. Hux, who was still staring at him with that half-confused face and projecting clear concern.

"I'm fine," he says again.

"The hell you are."

Ben grimaces. "I need something to drink."

Hux seems thankful to be given a sense of direction, not knowing that Ben's misdirecting them, and says, "There was a stand a little bit back, I believe."

Ben nods his head in agreement, leading them back to the aforementioned stall. The Wookie behind the counter is familiar to him at once, as he tries to smile back at his cousin's mate when she offers two drinks to them free of charge.

"Waroo was looking for you. Worried about you."

Had Lowbacca got to Lumpawaroo already, or was that merely a coincidence.

"He always is," Ben replies to Kitova, quick to change the subject. "And you, working today, of _all_  days?"

"Busy, busy, we all must do our part." She replies.

"Make sure he grabs you away for one dance at least, or we'll have words."

To this he gets a deep roar like laughter in reply. He intends to leave on that note, tipping his head towards her in a small nod, but before he goes she calls out to him. "Make sure to enjoy yourself, cub, you and your mate."

Her statement halts him in his place. Did Lumpawaroo not tell Kitova about their prisoner? He supposed it might make sense, best not to have everyone worrying about the First Order in their midst. A quick search of Kitova's mind proves his suspicions correct, as well as allowing an accident glimpse of her emotions - happiness and relief, for his sake.

He can't bring himself to speak up and rob her of that emotion, so he just nods his head once more, and says, "Will do," before grabbing Hux's arm and pulling them away from the stand.

Hux is projection confusion still. He has already proven himself more than capable of voicing his questions, so Ben isn't surprised in the slightest, when less than a minute later he asks.

"What was that all about?"

"Just checking in on family," Ben says, "She's my cousins mate."

"That thing was a she?"

\---

“Explain to me what’s going on,” Hux says.

They’re up in the trees once more rather than down at the festivities. Ben likes being up here much better, it’s private and peaceful unlike the dancing and music that is going down below ~~them~~.

Having been reassured that Hux felt secure enough in the tree not to panic, and having let all other avenues of conversation drop, it had been easy enough to do the same thing he had done the night before. Slipping into a light meditation was nice, it cleared his head and allowed him to focus on other things. He had been working on slowly breaking down the mental shields that had been put up in Hux’s mind, a delicate process as he had to be certain not to have Hux notice him. Though it was also a process he went about with hesitance, unwilling to consider this less than an invasion of privacy, especially after that had said this morning.

He’s thankful, in the end, for Hux’s interruption.

“They’re dancing.”

“I gathered that.”

“It’s a mating dance,” Ben clarifies. “Today is,” the last day before the pilgrimage, the last day he would be able to spend time with Hux until the festival was over, “a special day for it. There’s courting and the general concept is those who mate tonight are to be blessed but -” Ben shakes his head, letting his hair fall about his face, “Honestly, I try not to think about it.”

“Have you ever done it?”

Ben blinks in surprise at the forwardness of Hux’s question. “Have I ever had sex?”

Hux’s “No,” comes far too quickly, followed by a slightly delayed, “Though now I wonder-”

“Yes, I have,” Ben says, “Human merchants come from time to time, not usually _this_ time of year, and there’s always the spaceport.”

“Have you ever with a-” Hux stops, when Ben looks over there’s red splotching his cheeks. He doesn’t need to use the Force to know how Hux was going to finish that sentence.

“In case you missed the memo I’m considered rather hideous by Wookie standards.”

“Well, you’re quite attractive by human standards.”

He knew, on a fundamental level, that Hux was attracted to him. He had sensed it thanks to the Force, but hearing as much out loud was a completely different story. For a second he just stared at Hux, unsure how to respond.

Until once more the answer is presented before him. “Kiss me.”

Ben moves forward at the command. Crossing the space between them with ease. He hesitates only briefly, as he’s perched above Hux looking down at his features. Watching as his eyes slip shut, orange eyelashes brushing against pale cheeks, just so he can memorize the image before him, before slipping forward.

Their kiss is sweet and soft, unexpectedly so.

They kissed like familiar lovers, who had no need to rush, no need to push time forward to the inevitable, and could instead be allowed to linger there in that space, away from the rest of the galaxy.

He barely pulls an inch back to catch his breath, before Hux speaks once more, “Kiss me, again.”

And once again, he obliges.

\---

He shouldn’t be doing this. Under no circumstances should he be doing this, and yet here he was, leading Hux always from the festivities, away from the cell that he was to be returned to without company for the rest of Life Day.

Instead, of doing as he had been instructed by his cousin hours prior, Ben leads Hux to the one place that Ben calls his own.

“A tree house,” Hux says, sounding unimpressed. As Ben lowers the rope ladder that will bring them up. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Not just any tree house, _mine_.” Ben explains, giving the rope a testing pull, before climbing up. “With a real bed and everything.”

“Ah,” Hux says, and when Ben five rungs up looks down, Hux is still on the ground.

He reaches out to check Hux’s emotions with the Force. His desire is so plainly there, the desire that had drove them from the tree insisted they change to a location with _solid ground_. For a second Ben cannot understand what could’ve changed his mind.  

Surely, his fear of heights couldn’t be worth putting off _this_.

Though as he digs deeper than the surface thoughts of Hux’s mind, it comes clear.

“This isn’t a trap,” Ben insists.

“You wouldn’t tell me if it were.”

Ben shrugs half-heartedly. “Hux, I couldn’t give a fuck right now about you wanting to relive the _glory days_ of the Empire. I could, however, give you a fuck.”

Hux snorts, though Ben can sense his apprehension finally dissolving.

Ben climbs faster than Hux, so by time the other man reaches the top of the ladder, Ben has already disengaged the Force enhanced locks. The door opening easily for him to lead Hux inside.

Proper manners would dictate showing his guest around his home, but the second the door is closed, his chance to be a respectable host vanishes, as Hux pushes him back against the door frame.

For someone significantly slighter than Ben, he manages to have hidden strength. Such that Ben lets out a noise mixed with pain and pleasure as his shoulders hit the wooden frame of his door with a solid thunk.

This kiss is not soft and sweet like the one they had shared above the festivities. It is desperate and needy, a reflection of what is to come in the immediate future. Ben responds to it instantly, opening his mouth in a silent invitation, and invitation that Hux is all too willing to take.

Submitting to someone is not something that Ben is used to, nor he used to taking his time. Hux seems to intend to change that about him, whether he realizes it immediately or not. There’s a hand at his belt, undoing it without even having to look. Normally Ben would use the Force to aid in the riding of his clothing, but Hux seems to have everything under control.

The lips against his own move to his neck, and Ben tilts his head backwards, giving Hux the opening he needs. There muttered against the curve of his neck come the words. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Given his senses from the Force Ben cannot help but smirk, “Well, actually-”

“I want to blow you.”

That shuts him up.

“Please,” Ben manages in a strangled voice.

The loss of Hux’s touch against his skin seems almost unbearable, but it is worth it, as he watches Hux sink to his knees graceful. Ben is hit with an awareness that Hux has done this before, that he had gotten on his knees for other men with this same practiced ease. Possessiveness takes hold of him even though he has no grounds for it.

Reaching out to thread a hand through Hux’s hair, he gets an answering moan in reply.

Their eyes meet briefly, Ben with his hand tangled in Hux’s hair, while Hux’s lips are brushing against the tip of his cock.

When Hux speaks, it's a whisper, that sends shivers up Ben’s spine. “Happy Life Day.”

 


	6. Hux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to it being con season, (Motor City Comic Con this weekend! woo woo!) and my life being consumed by sewing a THOUSAND costumes, updates will be coming biweekly from now on. Sorry.

He wakes in a bed. A bed that’s softer than First Order regulation, and certainly softer than the exposed platform that he had been sleeping on for the past few days. He wants to burrow further into the sheets, to let himself slip back into his slumber, but he cannot. His mind is drawn to the emptiness of the space beside him -

To Ben.

He was in Ben’s bed.

In Ben’s _tree_ house.

Hux cracks open his eyes.

Ben is nowhere to be found on immediate inspection. All Hux can see are rumpled sheets, wooden walls, a small opening for something like a window that opens to the rest of the planet around them.

His clothing from the day before - the red robe - is nowhere to be found. Distantly, he recalls having divested himself of it before they had even made it past Ben’s foyer.

Ben has a pile of clothing on a small dresser. Folded poorly, but clearly put out for a reason. Hux inspects the articles: a pair of loose pants in a soft burgundy color, a wrinkled white tunic that will likely be far too loose for him, and a pair of clean briefs. Hux slips the offered clothing on carefully, with no mirror by which to see how he looks, he simply smoothed his hands down over the worst wrinkles hoping to make it look semi-presentable.

When he emerges from the bedroom, it is not hard to locate Ben. The aroma of caf lingers in the air, and Hux follows it to a small kitchen. There's a bowl of strange fruit set out and a steaming mug of freshly brewed caf. The mugs twin rests in Ben’s hand.

A normal person would say _Thank you_ or even _Good morning,_ but when Hux manages to speak with a dry tone, it is not such polite words that he imagined.

“Shouldn't I be back in my cell?”

Ben is non-pulsed by this declaration. Simply shrugging his shoulder. “If you'd like I could take you back after breakfast but I was hoping we could do something _else._ It is not as if anyone will notice you're missing.”

While Hux would like to have discussed that something else - particularly if it was in the same vein as last night’s activities. The part of him that still remembers that he is a prisoner and not a vacationer freezes at Ben’s final sentence.

“No one will notice?”

“They're all gone off to the Tree of Life. Only those absolutely necessary stay behind, and the elders too old to make the journey. I told my cousin I would stay behind to keep watch over our prisoner,” at this, Ben looks almost sheepishly down into his mug of caf, “Though I suppose this isn't exactly what he had in mind.”

The city is empty.

If there were any time to escape it would be now.

Especially with Ben trusting him enough to bring him _here_ of all places.

Ben surely must have some sort of comm, if Hux could use that to contact the First Order then…

He looks up at Ben, catching an almost hopeful look in this dark eyes. The sight of it makes Hux struggle to breathe.

As much as he wants to return to the First Order, the thought of leaving Ben behind seems unbearable.

Perhaps a few days of playing nice and he could convince Ben to join him. The First Order could use a skilled translator surely even if they prided themselves on being highly xenophobic… If nothing else he could keep Ben with him as a _personal attachment_.

“Thank you,” Hux says, the words he should have said before. The words that cause a grin to spill across Ben’s features.

“You don't have to thank me,” Ben insists, “I must admit I am doing all this for completely selfish reasons.”

“We both are.”

This half-truth satisfies Ben. Hux watching as he takes a long drink of his caf, content with the situation, before settling down to do so himself.

\---

He had imagined that spending the day in Ben’s private company might be an endless repeat of the night before until he was too tired and sated to move. What he got instead was simpler.

Hux was certain now that Ben was meditating. Aware of Hux's every movement and yet lost in himself, just as he had been while they sat together in the trees.

Hux had located the comm, but the second he had gotten within reach of it, Ben’s eyes had snapped open with a sudden awareness and directed Hux instead to a set of holonovelas.

Sappy romance novels that were nothing like reality, nothing like his current situation, despite one of them taking place on a planet not quiet unlike Kashyyyk, and featuring a dashing male lead that considered himself one of those strange creatures.

He turns the holonovela off just as the leading lady tells her father about the strange alien man she's met. Setting it aside as he rises from the wooden chair that he had been sitting upon.

The chair creaks as he rises, and Ben cracks open an eye to watch him.

“Investigating again.”

“You can't blame me for being curious,” Hux insists.

Ben shrugs again. “Is it that different from your home?”

His home.

Hux isn't sure it sure that he's ever had a proper one. Certainly nothing as domestic at this. There had been his father's grand house in Arkanis, the one just off site of the academy. Where he had resided until he was old enough to be forced into a dorm room with ten other boys. The Commandant unwilling to show a preference even to his own son.

He hadn't had private quarters of his own until he'd became a lieutenant, and even then it had been incredibly cramped. The first time he'd really had space had been when he was promoted to General of the Finalizer, but his space had certainly never looked as lived in as Ben’s.

“Hux?”

Ben's voice draws him back out of his thoughts, back to the world around him.

He hadn't answered the question.

“It's different in the First Order. Having personal items while not expressly forbidden among officers is still uncommon,” Hux explains, “The closest thing I had to a _home_ was my father’s grand house, but he hadn't wanted me there for long. It's more of a distant memory now.”

This earns him a sympathetic looks from Ben.

“They sent you away,” he asks, reaching for something - for kinship, for common ground between them.

“To the Academy. My mother had insisted I was too young, but honestly I think she'd assumed that she would be lonely without my company,” Hux admits. “Still I’d been sent and a year later there'd been a new baby in the family. A younger sister.”

“Do you still talk to her?”

“My sister? Maker, no - I haven't heard from either of them in years. Celia got married a while back and my mother, well I imagine she must have moved into a new project.”

Ben looks dismayed by this.

“I couldn't imagine that. I see my cousin every day. The idea of being without my family… I thought my Life Day was ruined when my mother wouldn't come,” Ben's voice is soft. As if he is ashamed of this.

His mother.

That is who Ben had spoken off, who had not shown up for the celebration

Not the Force Sensitive Wookie that Hux had been searching for, that Ben had seemed to imply to know.

Had they been speaking in circles with each other

Or were they connected? Hux’s target and Ben’s family.

This realization unnerves him. His stomach clenching with a sense of foreboding.

One that does by dissipate as Ben says, “You saved me from far more loneliness than you could ever imagine.”

He tries to keep his voice casual as he replies. “So it's your father that's the Wookie then.”

It works for Ben laughs at him.

“More like adopted son of a Wookie, it's complicated, honestly my whole family is a mess,” Ben insists, lighter now, happy almost, as he rises from his cross legged position on the floor in search of something.

When he returns it's with a picture, one that he presents to Hux.

“My mother,” Ben explains, “And a much younger version of myself.”

Hux freezes the second his eyes take in the picture projected before him. Ben looks much the same, even if younger- the same constellation of freckles dot his face, same waves of dark unruly hair. However it is not that which shocks Hux.

But the other person in the photo. unmistakable even in her youth.

General Leia Organa of the Resistance.

Otherwise known as public enemy number one.

Or Ben’s mother.

He looks away from the picture but it's imagine is already seared to the back of his eye lids.

How had he been so foolish as not to see it before. Confronted with the truth now he can see the similarities between the two, those deep dark eyes, the same lines along their cheekbones. It was all so clear.

Ben Organa.

The _long lost_ son of General Organa, believed by much of the First Order to have died years ago and never seen since.

Apparently wasn't dead.

He'd just been living in hiding on Kashyyyk.

Had the Supreme Leader known this?

Was this why Hux had been sent here?

Though if that were the case why would the Supreme Leader not have said as much.

No - it was more likely the Supreme  Leader had had no idea. He'd been sent on a dead end mission, but he could still turn this all around into a greater success than anyone had ever imagined.

He just had to play along for the time being.

It couldn't be that hard. Surely.

Just a day more at most, long enough to get Ben distracted enough that he could use the comm and alert the First Order of the situation.

“You were cute when you were younger,” Hux says. Hoping his newfound realization does not color his voice.

“I regret showing you that now,” Ben says, “If you're just going to tease me.”

“Oh not _just_.”

\---

His plan is simple.

Step One: Remain calm. Do not let this new knowledge lead to an outward display.

Step Two: Press a kiss to Ben’s lips as a means of distraction. Nothing more. Unbutton clothing with a purpose. Lead Ben back towards the bedroom.

Step Three: Lie back and think of the First Order. Do not give into that pleasure that threatens to overwhelm. Do not fall into foolish fantasies about romance or a life outside of the never ending war.

Step Four: Linger in bed for just a moment after the deed has been done. Allow a moment of indulgence, for this will be the last that there will ever be.

Step Five: Slip from the bed as Ben falls asleep. Quietly so that he does not wake.

Step Six: Comm the First Order.

\---

“This is General Brendol Hux Jr. of the Finalizer requesting immediate extraction from Kashyyyk, with prisoner in custody, one Ben Organa of the Resistance.”

  
  



	7. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over a month later I finally update. I'm not sure if anyone is still even reading this, but before the chapter starts I owe you all an explanation (you can skip this if you want). Shortly after the last chapter was posted, my hostile home life took a turn for the worse landing me in a women's shelter, with a injured wrist (and many other bruises) and basically homeless. I've since then spent the last month couch hopping, trying to find a new place to live in Chicago with my meager funds, and basically slowly putting myself back together. I'm still in the middle of it all without much of an end in sight.
> 
> Tomorrow I leave the place I've been staying at for about a week, on a chance that I might be able to have a place to stay. Assuming it goes well in 24 hours I'll have a room to call my own (though I will be struggling with money until my teaching program starts up in August...) in a safe place. Though there's a chance this may fall through at the last min and I won't know where I'll be. For further updates on my housing situation, stop by and chat with me on [tumblr](http://plinys.co.vu) or just keep an eye out for update posts.
> 
> Obviously, due to all this I haven't had much time/energy to write. However, today I basically stressed myself into a panic attack about the possibility of tomorrow going badly, and instead tried to channel that energy into this chapter for all of you. IDK if anyone is still interested in reading this fic, but it was a good distraction from the awfulness that is my life. 
> 
> The chapter is small. And unbeta'd since my beta is in Europe for the summer, but I hope you guys can forgive me.

Something is wrong.

He can feel it when he wakes up in the morning. 

Like a series of alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind. 

A chill crawling up his spine.

He lays there for a moment letting it wash over him. A warning from the Force. Of what exactly is unclear - perhaps if he were better trained, if he had studied from his Uncle, he would have been able to decipher the Force’s message.

The first though if of the clan. 

That something has gone wrong in the Life Day celebrations - but as he reaches out for Lowbacca and Lumpawaroo, he can feel them distantly safe on their journey to the Tree of Life. 

He then reaches out towards the trees around him, but no fires or hostiles can be sensed among their branches.

The only thing left to check is-

“Bad dream,” Hux’s voice is a soft question beside him. 

When Ben draws himself back into the present and rolls onto his side to look at Hux he finds him safe as well.

No reason for alarm.

And yet - the Force still blares in the back of his mind.

“Ben?”

Another question.

This time he answers, “Must have been.”

The Force did work in mysterious ways. 

There was no point lying around all day attempting to decipher whatever it had been.

Not with Hux beside him, looking incredible first thing in the morning, rolling over to kiss him with a passionate that Ben had never known before. Genuine interest and affection was intoxicatingly in his life so deprived of other human company.

The Force could wait.

 

\---

 

Hours later he will wish that he hadn't given into the temptation before him. That he had slipped into a much needed mediation.

But Hux had been there and he-

Well, hadn't that been the plan all along?

He knows the second he feels them landing among the trees what this means. Hux is still before him, a picture of innocence on his face.

Ben had been saying something, an idle quip about lunch that freezes on his lips. 

Ben wants to believe it. That Hux has no clue a rescue party is coming for him.

But he cannot.

Nor can he so openly accuse.

Even when it would be impossible to miss the sound of troopers gathering below the tree house. 

“Don't make this more difficult than it has to be,” Hux says. Standing up from his position on the floor. Long limbs moving stiffly like a soldier in borrowed clothes. “Come down as my prisoner. I won't let them hurt you.”

Ben call sense the lie easily enough.

It would be so easy to fight back. To use the the Force. He may not have a light saber on him, but there were other ways. He could throw blunt objects about, could rip apart a mind with a careful touch. He could fight free of this.

The warning bells of the Force still ring in his head.

A warning the second he reaches out.

No - he can't use the Force. 

Hux may have betrayed his trust but Ben has secrets that his companion can't have determined. The troopers gathered beneath him don't know that he is Force Sensitive. Just that he is holding their Commander captive.

If he could get his hands on his blaster he could fight back, but that should still be under his bed a room away not -

The muzzle of a blaster rests against the back of his head.

The muzzle of  _ his  _ blaster.

Figures Hux would've found it.

“Don't worry, it's set to stun,” Hux says, then everything goes black.

 

\--

 

He wakes up in an interrogation chamber. 

Strapped to some sort of interrogation device. It holds him upright in place while metal cuffs dig into his arm when he tries to move too much. 

Though not Force inhibiting cuffs. 

This realization causes a hint of relief to spread through Ben. 

He was right then, Hux doesn’t know he’s Force sensitive. Perhaps doesn’t even know who he truly is.

Though Ben doubts he is yet that lucky, if he were he would have been left behind, while Hux made his escape instead of here. The harsh artificial lights, and cool steel walls of the chamber make it clear that he’s far from Kashyyyk. 

He can’t help but wonder what had happened in his absence. 

Much of the clan had been off celebrating Life Day, so there shouldn’t have been any casualties. Only those too young, too sick, or too old had been left behind, no one ever suspecting that someone would come to disturb their peace.

He reaches out instinctively with the Force.

Pushing past the barriers he has seldom touched before. Into power that he has been warned away from, for fear of something dark lurking beneath the surface. Stretches his reach as far as he can, but his family on Kashyyyk remains out of reach.

The ship they’re on having moved out of range while Ben was under.

“Fuck,” Ben hisses, letting his hand slam back against the sturdy metal surface behind him.

Instantly he moves to generate an escape plan.

Step One: Break free of these cuffs. 

Easy enough with the Force at his side.

Step Two: Take out the inevitable guards, and steal a blaster.

Again, basic.

Step Three: Find Hux - 

Find Hux.

And then what?

“Fuck,” he curses again.

He should want to take revenge, to fight back, but when Ben thinks of Hux it’s not the way he had looked just before he raised the blaster, but rather how he’d looked in the early morning. Hair mussed, lips kiss swollen.

How much of this was a careful calculation? 

It couldn’t completely have been, otherwise Ben would have sensed it and yet.

The fear and doubt creep in easily.

He’s never been considered desirable by anyone before Hux. Wouldn’t it make more sense that this was all an act.

“Hey nerf fucker, I know you’re listening in on this,” Ben calls out, eyes darting around the chamber for the camera that must be there. “Why don’t you get down here and interrogate me. Unless you’re too much of a coward for that.”

Antagonizing people had always been one of Ben’s many faults. 

But he wasn’t about to start now.

“No - I bet you won’t. You’ll send some underling to do that, right? Wouldn’t want to get your hands dirty,” Ben snorts, “Or maybe you’re too worried that the second you see me you’ll drop to your knees again.”

Describing their mind blowing sex wasn’t going to be for anyone’s benefit at this point, but if the embarrassment of it could be enough to stir Hux into action. To bring him to his cell it might be worth it. 

“You know, I hear your whole lot is pretty xenophobic, so I imagine fucking a Wookie clan member isn’t something you’d tell them about, but well, bit late for that,” Ben lets out a whistle, “Let me tell you. The noises he made when I did this thing with my tongue. I mean, I’m know for it but I’d never-”

It’s not long until the door to his  _ cell  _ slides open, Ben falling silent at the sound of it.

Revealing the very man he’d been after. 

“Captain,” Ben says, angrily meeting the eyes of the man that was the cause of all this. “Took you long enough.”

Hux looked different here. A fine pressed uniform, a sneer on his face. There’s something like a hint of blush at the edge of his cheeks that Ben almost misses, disappearing soon enough.

Nothing like the Hux he wanted to remember.

When he speaks, his tone is sharp, leaving no misunderstanding of where they stand.

“It’s General.”

“Is it now? Are you certain?”

He gets no answer for this inquiry. 

Though Hux does move closer to him. A hand raising, not in a kind gesture, but to snap sharply hitting him across the face. 

“Welcome to First Order, Ben Organa.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> questions? concerns? just wanna talk kylux? find me on tumblr @ plinys


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